adaventuremuses

[adaventuremuses]

Spittle growled and crossed her arms. "I just said I don't do favors." But she paused when Jaheira mentioned that coin can do very little to save one's hide in the cursed lands. That much was true, and Spittle was very much concerned with surviving this whole ordeal. Her long, green goblin ears perked a little, an indication that she was listening to the old druid. "How do I know you won't try to squirm your way out of our deal, wrinkly ass?" Spittle crossed her arms. "Why don't you do a favor for ME first, and then I'll think about doing you a favor by watching over the storeroom."

"You're so full of shite." From Spittle

@adaventuremuses (tagging because Tumblr ate the ask)

Jaheira turns to her interlocutor, and her eyebrows arch in surprise in seeing a goblin.

"Well, I may be full of some things, but nonsense isn't one of them. You'll need to come up with something more clever than that."

[adaventuremuses]

Wyll chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Good at everything? You flatter me. There's a lot I'm not good at. You should've seen me trying to play piano once. It was terrible." He paused a moment upon hearing Erala's quiet words. It felt as if he'd been struck for a moment. Struck by how relatable those words were... He bit his lip a moment and fell silent, unsure of how to respond. When she looked up at him, he was back to smiling, unbothered and charming once more. "Of course. I'm here for you. I'm sure anyone at camp would say the same. We're all here together fighting the same fight. You can always rely on me," Wyll said. And as he said those words, he felt his resolve strengthen. Of course, anyone could rely on him. He was the Blade of Frontiers. That was what he was here for. He felt her take his hand a moment, and his cheeks suddenly felt warm. "Ah..." It was a comforting gesture; though, he didn't know if she thought she was comforting him or if she was looking to him for comfort. It was probably the latter, right? It had to be the latter. He smiled warmly and squeezed her hand back, then he rested his other hand on top of hers. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

@more-than-a-slayer

Erala looks down, half hurt, half grateful for the statement.

"But I am."

It pained her to admit so, but Wyll had proven to be a good friend, a reliable ally, and, above all else, a good person. He had the spine to admit his flaws, he was not afraid of facing the consequences of his choices, and he was hiraliously brave for challenging a chambion out of spite.

She might think that his goody-two-shoes attitude was a bit annoying sometimes, but despite that, she admired him for everything else.

"I'm not afraid of my power, mind you." She added. "I'm afraid of what it might make me do. I'm afraid that I'll never being truly free."

Wyll's expression softened as Erala admitted that she was afraid. That was always a difficult admission to make. One that took courage. He gave a nod. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid, Erala. You've been burdened with a frightful curse. In your shoes, I'm not sure I'd be able to handle it quite as well as you do." He sighed. "I know the feeling, but I also know it's much worse for you. At least I know what to expect from Mizora. But your... urges, they seem to come out of nowhere." He steadied himself, drawing up as tall as his height would allow him. "But don't worry, as long as I am here, I'll always stop you before you can harm an innocent. And as long as I'm here, I'll help you find your freedom. We'll get through this. Together."

[adaventuremuses]

Spittle pulled out an apple from the supply chest and was ready to throw it, too, when it seemed her attacker had stopped going after her. She narrowed her eyes a moment, then she took a chomp out of the apple. "No, you," Spittle replied, automatically, bits of apple spitting out from her lips as she chewed. She didn't walk out from behind her hiding place of the chest just yet and still had her dagger out just in case. "I dunno!" She threw her hands up, and then munched on another part of the apple. Her mouth full, she began to speak, a bit muffled. "I was thinking it looked pullable, so I pulled it. I didn't think you were going to go batshit on me." More bits of apple spit out from her mouth and fell down on her tattered black blouse. "Lesson learned. Won't do it again. Sheesh. Had to take all the fun out of it. Maybe you should think about not waving your tail around so much, toad-face." She chewed, then made a face. She spit out a chewed up apple seed on the ground. "Blegh." Then, she resumed eating the rest of the apple.

@never-surrender

She had been minding her own business, out gathering different herbs and ingredients for necessary potions when she felt it. A violent yank on her tail that sends the vampire stumbling backwards with a wild, animalistic scream of pain. A tiefling's tail was a sensitive thing, and what was more? It was a source of trauma for Aurelia...

Spinning on a dime, Aurelia's fingers were curled, her claw like fingernails slashing through flesh without a single care in the world. But she didn't stop at just the one strike. She struck again, and again, uncaring if she actually hit the beast, only focused on the fact that she wanted whoever it was dead.

Spittle had been curious. Truthfully, she was always curious. But she hadn't spent much, if any time, around tieflings before. And she'd always had grabby green hands. So, she'd indulged. She hadn't expected the wild scream of pain to erupt from Aurelia's lips. "Eheheheh. Woops?" But she'd barely had time to react when she suddenly felt claws scratch across her face. "Aaaargh! Aglashyk!" She'd naturally let out the goblin curse word. She started back-running right away, trying to dodge and occasionally getting hit in the shoulder or hand. She drew her dagger and blocked Aurelia's hand with it. "You crazy, horny, rat-bitch! I was just-" She looked around frantically for a place to hide. "Didn't think it was a big deal Fuck! Ow, shit!" She hid behind a supply chest and threw a bottle of ale at her attacker. "Will you fuckin' calm down, you banshee-arse, I'm on your side!"

[adaventuremuses]

“Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner.” - To Wyll from Ginger-Fey'ri

Wyll let out a laugh as he flourished his rapier and stabbed a goblin through the chest before dodging the club of a bugbear. "I'll drink to that! Fighting always works up such an appetite," he said, summoning up hellfire from his fingertips and dealing an Eldritch Blast. He took a blow to the shoulder from an arrow and grimaced. "Damn these goblins don't know when to quit!" He left the arrow in and continued to deal Eldritch Blasts now that his sword hand was hindered due to the arrow in his shoulder. "Goblin blood does kind of put a damper on things, though. What shall we have for dinner, then? I can make a mean roast."

[adaventuremuses]

What Kind of Love are You? Gale: Love as a Force of Nature

Your love is like whiplash –– it comes in with the rain, it blows the doors wide open. When you fall in love, it is sudden and hard and immense. It is powerful. It is earth-shaking and world-ending. Nature is a force, and that force can be destructive if you're not careful. See how the world is doused in gasoline and set on fire –– your love consumes, your love takes, your love burns. You're hot and cold all at once, a hurricane and a wildfire bound together in skin, and when you're in love, it can feel like it's eating you alive from the inside out. When you love, it is with everything you have because it is everything you have. Be careful, darling, because not everyone survives the storm. Wyll:

Love as the Dawn

Pastel, saccharine and hopeful, your love rises slow to greet the day. It tiptoes on doe feet and blossoms bit by bit, petal by petal. Love is new to you, isn’t it? A fresh discovery in a world you do not quite understand. Your love loves with bated breaths. Your love swoons and sighs and lingers under awnings. Your love romanticizes. Your love aches as tenderly as a bruise. You’re swollen with desire and idealizations. The perfect kiss, the perfect touch, the perfect partner in life. Your love is wide-eyed and innocent, naive and pristine and oh, so very easily breakable. Being loved by you is to be loved by a child, by a lamb, wooly-eyed and helpless. Oh. I really hope it lasts. Spittle:

Love as a Flaw

Cowering, your love hides in the dark. In shadows and under cover of night, your love runs from corner to corner, afraid to linger, afraid to be caught. Afraid, afraid, afraid of everything. When you fall in love, it is with alarm bells ringing. Your love is a mistake, a flaw in the code, a purchase you don’t remember making and desperately want to return. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t want this. It’s a problem–– your problem ––and you would do anything to pass it off, burn it away, scoop it out of you with bare hands, or carved out with hooked knives before it can destroy you. Get it out, just get it out now. You don’t care who you hurt in the process, only that you can’t afford to be hurt first. Being loved by you is to be loved by a figment of the imagination. It is to be loved in halves, or not at all.

[adaventuremuses]

“Let me guess - you need something.” (Mizora towards Wyll)

Wyll narrowed his eyes, his posture tense and closed-off, his arms crossed over his chest. He hated her. He hated her so damn much. He wouldn't have put it past her to have orchestrated this whole damn thing just to put him in this very position: asking her for help. That's how it usually went, wasn't it? But he couldn't just stand by and do nothing. He couldn't give up now, not when he had come so far, not when there were lives in the balance. Not when the Blade of Frontiers was needed most. "Cut the crap, Mizora. I know you don't need to guess. You know exactly why I'm contacting you and what I need," Wyll said, his voice low and growling. "The question isn't what I need. It's what you want from me in exchange." He paused a moment. He figured he'd better clarify before she decided to pull some stupid devilish trickery on him again. "A group of bandits are holding Marumpha Village's elder's grandchildren hostage. They want supplies and wealth and safe passage through the mountain before they'll release them. And it's not a sure thing they'll keep their word. I was following their trail, but - Surprise, surprise-" He raised up his arms in anger. "It's gone cold, and now I don't know where they are. I can't afford to waste time running around in circles. Tell me where the bandits are holed up. I know you know."

[adaventuremuses]

Wyll looked out around the cavern. He wasn't really taking in the scenery so much as keeping his good eye out for trouble or shifting movement. He knew the Underdark was dangerous, and he was going to treat it that way. Still, he also listened to Gale as the other talked. He couldn't help but smile at the man's romantic notions about magic treasure, buried ruins, and lost knowledge. It was almost enough to make him feel at ease. Almost. "Well, it's certainly an adventure, don't get me wrong. I hope we do find something like that here in this darkness. A magical item could be helpful - especially given your condition." He stretched out somewhat, then returned his hand to the hilt of his rapier as he hopped down a rocky outcropping. "It'll be something spending the night here. Day? It's hard to keep track this far inside."

Wyll rubbed the back of his neck, still a little embarrassed by the misstep he made. "It would be a rather anticlimactic and unfitting end, yes. I always pictured dying in a blaze of glory - succumbing to my injuries after felling a foul monster." He listened to Gale as the other talked about envying a drow's darkvision. It was nice to have another human in the group who had the same issue he had - at least where not having darkvision was concerned. "I've heard stories myself." He smiled. "I've never ventured THAT far into the Underdark. But I did once rescue a small group of villagers from some hobgoblin slavers who had been taking refuge in the beginning caverns of the Underdark." He looked around. "Not much to tell really. It was dark and damp, and you always have this sort of unsettling feeling of dread that things will get worse as you get further along."

[adaventuremuses]

Gale's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief and a great heaping helping of "d'awwww." Shadowheart was pretty, and on some occasions, even adorable, but like this... with those cat-ears and tail, and her batting him away like a kitten, she was much, much more so. It was rather unfortunate for him that he wore his feelings on his sleeve so much. He was trying and failing so hard at keeping a grin from his face. "My apologies," Gale said, putting his hand up to his face to try and further hide his smile. "Though, you'll forgive me if I fail to see the humiliation aspect. The cat ears and tail seem to suit you." He took a few steps back just in case she tried to hit him much harder this time. He shook his head. "Ah, no. You won't remain in such a state forever. I'd estimate the effects should wear off within a day or possibly two if you don't remain sufficiently hydrated. As for a way to reverse what's been done... Hmmm..." Gale stroked his bearded chin, looking up at the ceiling of his tent. "I'm sorry to say, I don't necessarily have expertise in the subject of alchemy. And with a risky admixture such as this, I'd have to be very careful formulating an antidote - the results could be, dare I say, catastrophic were I to go mixing ingredients willy-nilly, ah..." His face brightened a moment. "Oh! I made a pun just now. Catastrophic. Heh heh." He cleared his throat and tried to look serious. "I'll need to do some research. I don't suppose you have the bottle that you drank from? It could be helpful."

@adaventuremuses continued from here!

As fingertip grazed against the shell of her ear, it snapped, then twitched. Deliciously sensitive and just as adorable as one might expect. A shame the little hiss-machine it’s attached to was more prone to bite than purr. With an animalistic bat of her hand, she paws him away, eyes narrowed and lips curled into a scowl.

“It is not fascinating, Gale. It’s humiliating. Gods, if the others saw me in such a state …” She’d never live to hear the end of it. It was so laughably easy to envision their reactions. Karlach’s bark of raucous laughter, Lae’zel’s sneering dry wit, Astarion’s scathing bite of condescension. It’d haunt her ‘till her last, dying breath, and if she needed to grab Gale by the short-hairs and force a solution out of him, so be it. She'd finally have a proper reason to demonstrate traditional Sharran torture methods.

With lingering patience, she waited for him to verbally assess the situation, rattling off potential causes, and it felt as if he had a solid guess on what might’ve been the magical trigger for all this mess. Only … no antidote was propositioned. Why wasn’t he fixing this right now.

“Alright, so, I’ve been … critterfied, as you put it. Does your knowledge of such a thing include how to reverse what’s been done? If you dare to suggest I remain this way forever, I will plunge a fork straight up your —”

A quirk of her tail. She didn’t finish her sentence, regaining control over fluctuating emotions with a chest-deep sigh. Whatever she had ingested, it felt as if it was throwing her emotional regulation off its axis. Feelings were intensive, and there was much heavier effort on her behalf to preserve reason.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t resort to petty threats, I’m merely … a bit frightened. Gods, I feel so bizarre.”

[adaventuremuses]

Wyll kept his posture and his gaze open. He looked over Rook with his one good eye - red on black sclera while his stone eye remained still and void. The man mentioned devotion, but that it was long gone. So, he'd broken his oath, then? Wyll did a good job of not looking too disappointed. "I don't think there's anything wrong with that. Devotion, especially to a good cause, is a wonderful thing. I think being devoted to one another in marriage is good, too, with or without the sex." His cheeks tinged a darker shade at the mention of sex, but he quickly moved on, clearing his throat. "Oh, thank you! It's nothing special, really. Somebody has to do it. It might as well be me, hm?" He gave a bit of a dismissive wave of his hand. "How about you? What do you fight for now?"

@karmints

Wyll approached Rook in camp after dinner that night - curious about the fellow they were now traveling with. He smiled easily and with no small amount of charm. He leaned close to a rocky outcropping near Rook's tent. "So, a paladin, hm? I have to say I've always admired paladins and their commitment to their oaths. If I'm not prying too much, what is your oath, friend?"

[adaventuremuses]

Wyll considered it a victory seeing the way her lips twitched just slightly. Given that Shadowheart so often only seemed to smile (or rather smirk) when she was delivering a particularly harsh quip or when she thought no one was looking when cute animals were involved, it was nice seeing her almost crack a smile at such a simple joke. His eyes widened a little when Shadowheart next told him that she believed his father did raise him well. But he kept smiling and laughed a little when the half-elven cleric mentioned his humility. "Well, it's something I could stand to work on a bit more. I will admit it sometimes gets to my head being the Blade of Frontiers. But I always try to remember that I'm just a man of the people. I'm working for them - not above them." He tilted his head. "Is it? I could think of more troubling things." He COULD; that didn't mean he was going to. He usually sought to strike down troubling thoughts where they stood. To silence them by any means necessary. He didn't have time for troubling thoughts. And people didn't look to him for him to speak troubling thoughts. They looked to him to put an end to trouble, no matter what form it took. Wyll listened to her closely; his posture was open, and his eyes were on her, even if she didn't so much as look at him. Not that he could really blame her for not looking - his devilish appearance wasn't much of a comfort to anybody. "Hm. If I may be so bold, it sounds to me like it bothers you. Looking to turn people's minds against them and not being able to stop. Hardwired or not, instincts can change. Just like it was trained into you, it can be trained out of you... if you're willing to undergo such training, of course." Wyll looked over Shadowheart a moment. It was hard to make any judgements about what she might have been feeling or where her thoughts might be going with her face hidden from him as it was. Was she feeling shame? Is that why she was hiding? Or was she just being as closed-off as she usually was? "Well, people are always going to see what they want to see. I'm no different in that regard. But I don't consider myself a delusional man, either. There's a lot more to you than you give yourself credit for, Shadowheart, and I don't just say that because you're a lady of mystery. You're strong, and even if your heart is darkened by shadow, it still beats. It still bleeds. And it's made of flesh - not stone." He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a sheepish grin. "But I'm getting too poetic. All that to say, I think you're not only capable, but you're a good person - someone who is kinder and gentler than you think."

Wyll smiled when Shadowheart conceded somewhat and decided to take a break on a chair. "Well, blades do have a pointy end. Only fair that the Blade himself would make a good point every now and then, too, right?" After his cheesy joke, he leaned up against the wall. Relaxing some but not quite. Someone had to keep an eye out for trouble. He didn't let the silence bother him. He'd spent many nights in silence. In fact, it was often preferred to having a she-devil whispering in his ear. He glanced at her when she suddenly spoke. His chest warmed at Shadowheart's admission that she admired him. His head quirked a little in curiosity at noting her words were laced with bitterness. He wasn't sure where that was coming from. His brow furrowed.

"I'm glad you think so. Though, truthfully, it's been a long time since I've had people in my life for an extended period of time like this. I'm used to, you know, adventuring. Saving the day. Maybe staying a night or two in a town, and then... moving on. I do try to stay in contact with the people I've met along the way, of course. I write letters. But it's-" His brow furrowed again, then his expression hardened as he thought of Mizora and her constant manipulation. "It's too risky to get too close." But he managed a smile again as Shadowheart told her she didn't know where he got it from. "I've only been on my own for about seven years. My father raised me. And I think he raised me well. Not to mention, I always strive to learn from others. If I'm good at guiding, it's only because others have guided me first. I'm learning even now... from you. And from the others here." He gestured at Shadowheart and others in the party. He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Besides, mapping out my heart before that devil does has pretty much been a... requirement for me. There are still places that are unknown to me, but like I said, I'm learning more every day." His one red eye searched Shadowheart for a moment. "It's the same for you, isn't it? I see the way you watch people, sometimes, and you have a certain wisdom about you."

[adaventuremuses]

So, I've come down with something. Major headache, earache, sore throat, coughing, and general sinus issues. Blaaaargh. Awful. Might take me a while on replies cause I'm mostly just napping. Sorry!

[adaventuremuses]

randomly generated headcanons Spittle: Spittle would easily survive the Hunger Games. Spittle doesn't know how to say she's sorry. If Spittle likes someone, she will give them a pretty rock. Spittle has been canceled on Twitter. Spittle desperately needs a hug but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one. ....... Gale: Gale roleplays on Discord. Gale gets road rage. Gale enjoys doing taxes. Gale is a simp. Gale has a low alcohol tolerance. ......

Wyll: Wyll tells dad jokes. Wyll is not allowed to drink energy drinks. Wyll cries while watching Disney movies. Wyll has punched a hole in his wall. Wyll has an incredible spice tolerance.

[adaventuremuses]

Gale beamed at Vorel as she corrected him. "Ah, yes. That makes perfect sense. I do wonder how it must feel for the dragon or dragonborn, though. Is it akin to indigestion, I wonder?" He looked thoughtful when Vorel described how the lightning breath weapon worked. "Conductive material? Is it a biological feature or does the material have to be eaten first? It sounds a little unpleasant. But ah, I can see how using the air in that way would be beneficial to conducting. I imagine it's especially potent during a storm." Gale looked pleased, maybe even a little smug, when the blue dragonborn gave him an impressed look and told him he'd done much better. He examined his fingernails for a moment. "Well, I have been told I am a quick learner." Among other things. But he blinked a few times after she told him how she can barely read or write Common. "Is that so? That's quite the shame. Reading is one of the simple joys of life. I wouldn't mind tutoring you. There's much to discover and much joy to be had in words, and Common is so commonly used." He chuckled a little at his joke.

Gale blinked a few times, then he switched to Common. "Oh! I meant no offense! Your Common is more than adequate! It's just... I so rarely acquire the opportunity to speak to someone at length in Draconic. It's such a resplendent language. You know, Auld Wyrmish is foundational in the High Tongue, so I can't help but find it as melodious and mystical as the Weave itself."

He flushed a little with embarrassment when Vorel corrected him. "Oh? That makes sense. The breath originates in the diaphragmic area which is also where many dragons and dragonborn utilize their breath weapon, so of course..."

He went on in this vein for quite some time, then he sucked in a breath.

["How's this? Am I utilizing the appropriate core muscles?"] He was surprised by how much deeper and authoritative he sounded, even more so than when he was casting magic.

[adaventuremuses]

@grief-worn

No, this isn't a disaster. It's not impending death or the sprouting of gruesome tentacles from her mouth. It isn't exactly worth the trouble of kicking up dirt or screaming the top of her head off. It's nothing more than a simple mistake. Her organization is usually so thorough, so carefully labelled and precisely categorized, but the past couple weeks had pushed her to both physical and mental limits, for the cleric, and for everyone else. A misstep here and there was to be expected. In fact, it was to be planned and accounted for.

She didn't exactly expect something like this, though.

The only person she trusts enough to fix this is Gale. They aren't friends. Hells, she barely recognizes him as an acquaintance. But, whether she'll admit it or not, he's a damn fine wizard, well-known throughout Waterdeep, and across the further reaches of the Sword Coast. His acclaim certainly precedes him, and she needs a sharp mind and someone intimately attuned to the arcane.

Forgoing basic manners, Shadowheart bursts her way into his tent. It was cracked open to allow a slight breeze, so she hoped to not catch him in the midst of anything unpleasant. Luck throws her a bone, and she finds him nose-deep in the spine of a book, gently aged and thicker than his arm, no doubt filled with esoteric information detailing the linguistic components of illusory spells, or some other such nonsense. Reading time is over, and she will not allow him to ignore her.

"Gale. You need to help me." Shadowheart leaves no room for argument. "What in the Hells is wrong with me."

It might take a second for him to realize what she's blathering on about, but it wouldn't take long. Springing out of her scalp are two pointed cat ears. Triangular, fluffy, and definitely, unequivocally real. Finer muscles flick and swivel, fully functional and ranged with movement. Not so bad, probably a quick fix.

Then there's a swish of something just past her shoulder, and things complicate. Cat ears, and a cat tail. Long, sleek, and tipped in white. It's frizzed up, all hairs standing on their very ends. There's even the barest hissing quality edged across her voice; she's a feline infuriated.

"I swear I took the right potion," Just something to ebb her splitting headache and patch up a few cuts along her leg. "but something must've gotten mixed up, or — things got misplaced, I don't know."

A pause as she takes another breath, then exasperation.

"Do something!"

Dinner had been served. Spells had been prepared. It was the perfect night to just relax - or relax as much as one could with a literal bomb in their chest and a tadpole in their brain. Gale had a soft blush on his face as he turned the page of his tome. It was not, in fact, a grimoire filled with esoteric information regarding the linguistic components of illusory spells. No. It was a thick anthology series of romantic fairy-tales. This particular fairy tale was about a princess rescuing a wizard from a tower - and - And suddenly, Shadowheart burst into his tent without even so much as calling out to him or knocking on a nearby object. He startled. What if he had been indecent?! He glanced at the tome, then quickly stuffed it under a pillow; his blush increasing slightly. At least he hadn't gotten caught with one of his erotica (not that he'd been reading any lately - much too risky for the, uh, excitement aspect and the volatile nature of his orb), but he didn't want people knowing that he spent an inordinate amount of time with romance literature when he could be studying something more befitting of a mage with his reputation. His brow furrowed when Shadowheart asked him what in the hells was wrong with her. "Well, for starters, you entered my tent without so much as a word or knock on something..." Then, he noticed the problem. Shadowheart had... cat ears. And oh, look at that! A cute fluffy tail. He started to stand, groaning a little due to the ache in his knees. His deep brown eyes went wide and sparkling. "Fascinating," he said, breathlessly. He listened to Shadowheart as she mentioned a potion, and his brow furrowed. "You're saying a potion did this? Interesting." He moved over to her, circling around her somewhat with a hand on his chin. "Hmm..." He reached up and touched the back of her ear. "Sweet Mystra, it's real," he said, sounding shocked. "Not a haphazard potion of Disguise Self, then. Good. Those never work quite the way you want them to." He stepped back trying to resist the urge to touch her ears again. They were so soft and fluffy-looking! He cleared his throat. "No potion should be able to do this..." He paused, then narrowed his eyes. "Unless, perhaps..." He looked up at the ceiling of his tent - thinking about what he knew of potions. It wasn't exactly his area of expertise, but he knew enough about magical ingredients to get by. "I've heard alchemists refer to a grouping of potions known as Risky Admixtures. One such potion has the effect of Critterification - in which the subject who drinks the potion will be turned into a creature - typically a small one such as a mouse or weasel or cat." He glanced at her ears, then down at her fluffy tail. "But it seems the admixture you drank must have been accidental - perhaps a side effect of mixing the wrong proportions of ingredients in a different potion. It looks like it didn't take full effect."

[adaventuremuses]

Haven't done one of these yet, but like for a starter from me? Reply if there's a specific muse you want me to write for the starter.

[adaventuremuses]

Gale blinked a few times, then he switched to Common. "Oh! I meant no offense! Your Common is more than adequate! It's just... I so rarely acquire the opportunity to speak to someone at length in Draconic. It's such a resplendent language. You know, Auld Wyrmish is foundational in the High Tongue, so I can't help but find it as melodious and mystical as the Weave itself."

He flushed a little with embarrassment when Vorel corrected him. "Oh? That makes sense. The breath originates in the diaphragmic area which is also where many dragons and dragonborn utilize their breath weapon, so of course..."

He went on in this vein for quite some time, then he sucked in a breath.

["How's this? Am I utilizing the appropriate core muscles?"] He was surprised by how much deeper and authoritative he sounded, even more so than when he was casting magic.

@ceruleanscarred Gale couldn't keep himself from glancing over with curiosity and interest at the latest addition to the party: a tough-looking blue dragonborn who called herself Vorel. Although, he kept up his usual bantering with the other party members as he walked, inwardly, he was rehearsing his topic of conversation. Reading and writing Draconic was one thing - but speaking it was a whole other thing altogether. He considered how he might approach his greeting. Traditional? Formal? Casual? No. He'd just be himself. He sucked in a breath, then he gave his most charming smile to the dragonborn. ["Well, I must say it is an unexpected pleasure to have a dragonborn in our midst,"] Gale said, in Draconic. Although, he had a thick Common accent, and his growls at certain points were lacking, but otherwise his pronunciation was quite clear. ["It's not everyday one meets a dragonborn. I've met a couple in my day, but I've never had the occasion to speak to one at length. Draconic is such a fascinating language. It's use in the arcane arts cannot be understated..."] And Gale was already launching into an excited ramble about the history of Draconic and the nuance of its language and maybe occasionally showing off some Draconic idioms he knew of (which unfortunately for him were much more archaic than modern Draconic).

[adaventuremuses]

Wyll rubbed the back of his neck, still a little embarrassed by the misstep he made. "It would be a rather anticlimactic and unfitting end, yes. I always pictured dying in a blaze of glory - succumbing to my injuries after felling a foul monster." He listened to Gale as the other talked about envying a drow's darkvision. It was nice to have another human in the group who had the same issue he had - at least where not having darkvision was concerned. "I've heard stories myself." He smiled. "I've never ventured THAT far into the Underdark. But I did once rescue a small group of villagers from some hobgoblin slavers who had been taking refuge in the beginning caverns of the Underdark." He looked around. "Not much to tell really. It was dark and damp, and you always have this sort of unsettling feeling of dread that things will get worse as you get further along."